Spookshow Baby
by QueenOfTheDream
Summary: Shilo's legacy is not up to her genes... but the adrenaline-fueled nights after the opera reveal that she may be an entirely different beast than anyone predicted. With a hefty price tag on her head, she is presented with two choices for escape from the hellish world she'd been thrown into. The Graverobber lays his trap... Grilo. Dark, fast, and much citrus coming. M for a reason.
1. The Girl Who Loved the Monsters

The night after her father was betrayed and publically murdered upon the stage, she walked the damp streets of Crucifixus, still wearing her long-dead mother's black dress. Her ruined wig hung down upon her shoulders, clumped and stringy with dried blood.

The night after she was introduced to the sick inner world of the Largo family and its GeneCo empire, Amber Sweet put a bounty on her head because she threatened Amber's new hold upon the family company.

The night after she gained and lost a godmother, the very first light that shined into her life from the outside, she was found by GeneCops and pursued through the city. Every street corner housed a little camera eye from which she could not hide; after all, a blood-covered ragamuffin was hard to miss. She darted into the shadows and slid into the broken basement window of a condemned house a few blocks from her own. The thought of her "home" made a shudder run down her spine. That was one ghost she wasn't quite ready to face yet.

The night after she discovered the dark corners where mysteriously luminous drugs were bought and peddled under the radar, she saw that there was a ragged, gaping hole in the basement wall that had been carved into a dark tunnel. She walked into the blackness cautiously, ears straining to hear any trace of the men that pursued her as she felt her way to the end of the passage.

The night after her safe life was ripped from her and torn to shreds, little Shilo Wallace once again came face-to-face with the Graverobber.

The tunnel abruptly widened into a sort of antechamber-meets-cavern space that was dimly lit by a rapidly dying lantern. Next to the small lantern was a copy of the daily paper with her face splashed across the cover and a large knapsack piled on top of a face-down corpse. More intriguing, however, was the Graverobber, suspended upside down by a plastic cable tied around his ankles. Shilo's boots crunched upon the gritty dirt floor.

"Who's there? Stay back," the Graverobber hoarsely growled as he twisted his head around, causing his body to sway back and forth.

"Uhm," Shilo started, unsure of how to proceed. "Do you have my cure?" She couldn't take her eyes off of the corpse. A large, billowing black dress surrounded the still body.

"Kid? Is that you," Graverobber questioned with disbelief. His face scrunched up almost comically, and Shilo stepped forward into the tiny swath of light surrounding the lantern.

"I'm here to earn my cure," she uncertainly squeaked. Confusion was plainly written upon her face as she scanned the strange position he was put in. The Graverobber could see the dried smears of makeup that trailed down her cheeks.

"Your cure? Is that what this is about?!" He practically yelled the words at her in exasperation, but the thought of the spike of pressure in his skull that would incur made him cringe. He calmly reevaluated the situation. Perhaps she could be of use.

"Sorry," he drew out in a sing-song tone. Shilo's thin eyebrows knitted together, and he elaborated. "That fucking Amber cleaned me out, but maybe later…" his hard voice trailed off, and she took a tiny step closer to him. "I'll hook you up." Her eyebrows rose toward her hairline and a tiny spark lit in her eyes as he nodded. "Later," he affirmed. "Just help me down."

"The drug," she murmured as she crouched and crept toward him on her knees.

"Yeah, the drug. Help me down; I'll score some," he ground out, his patience with her glassy-eyed stare wearing thin.

"Shed some." She was practically pleading, and her thin, black-tipped fingers reached forward to touch his hair that nearly brushed the floor.

"Kid, I'm out. I told you. That's the situation."

Her face settled into a frown, and her gaze flitted to the corpse just to her right. "How 'bout her? She's right beside you," Shilo questioned.

"So?" His head was killing him.

"No, I mean her Zydrate," Shilo continued. "It's like a night light…" she trailed off, staring at the back of the corpse's head. Dark brown dust-covered waves fanned out upon the floor.

"You're beautiful," Graverobber whispered, surprised at her unexpected stroke of genius. "It's easy," he crooned, grinning slyly at her as her dark eyes shot up to stare at him incredulously. He could see the dried blood in her skewed wig, and some of the strands were glued to her cheek. She practically exuded innocence, despite the previous night's life-changing opera.

"You don't mean for me to-"

"So easy…" He was taunting her, cajoling her with one eyebrow quirked.

Her voice quivered. "I don't think-"

"Don't think. Just smack it," he instructed as she picked the long, thick needle off of the dusty floor and tested its cold weight curiously in her hands.

"I guess that she won't feel it," Shilo pondered. Her hands were slightly trembling. Anything to clear her mind and get rid of the horrible shaking… She reached over to roll the woman's body onto her back. The head lolled to the side, and Shilo was struck with a sense of dull familiarity.

"She won't." He closed his eyes and nodded. "Just smack it into her skull." The words rolled off of his tongue like oil.

"Like a needle into a bug," Shilo muttered, barely audible, before the needle broke through the thin bone, and she drew back on the plunger. The vial filled with glowing liquid. Just one hit… She stared at it in wonder. Graverobber smirked, proud of his handiwork. He somehow managed to corrupt the girl more than the fateful night at the opera had. At that moment, it became his personal mission to ensure Shilo Wallace's complete and total defilement and corruption of her innocence, her evolution into the next phase of her life.

Quickly she stood. "How am I supposed to get you down?" Graverobber almost sighed in relief. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

"My pocket. There's a switchblade." She reached forward, and when her hand ghosted across the skin at the edge of his pants, his nerves jumped. She maneuvered her small fingers into the pockets, swiping them back and forth across his upper thigh. "No, the other one," he whispered.

Without thinking, she took a step forward and dove into his left pocket. His face was hanging almost exactly level with the front of her pelvis. Oh, clearly this was destiny. He surreptitiously inhaled deeply. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered… if he slipped his tongue out and took a little taste, would she cut him?

Before he could entertain the thought any longer, Shilo's fingers found what they sought. "Aha!" The knife slid easily out of his pocket before she pried it open. One of her thin arms rose up, but she wasn't quite tall enough to reach the cord that bound his ankles. Looking around frantically, Shilo espied an old rusted toolbox. That would do. She dragged it over, clambered on top, and set to sawing into the hard plastic, causing his body to sway and jerk slightly.

From this new vantage point, Graverobber could see straight up her tiny skirt. All he saw was darkness due to the poor lighting of course. However, his imagination supplied him with plenty of material to work with. Surely, the gods meant for this to happen. A dirty smirk crawled across his face just as Shilo let out a little, "Eep," and he came crashing down onto the hard floor with a loud crack that he was half sure was every bone in his neck imploding.

"Sorry," she gushed as he righted himself, brushing the dirt from his tangled locks. Without missing a beat, he grabbed the glowing blue needle and squirted the liquid into one of the little glass vials in his bag.

"A little glass vial," Shilo murmured a little too breathlessly. With a little click, he locked the tube into the Zydrate gun and turned, kneeling at the girl's wobbly knees.

"So…" he started, looking up at her unsure face in the dim light.

"My… father… was using the drug to keep me sick. I need to get clean and get out of here, but I can't do that when I'm withdrawing like this. I can't think straight," she panted rapidly. "Just one, and I'll start planning my escape from here."

"Mmhm," Graverobber hummed, fighting the wolfish grin that threatened to spread across his mouth and idly tapped the glowing blue vial, just waiting for her to say when.

Shilo sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and slowly drew up the hem of her dress while cocking her leg to the side, exposing her inner thigh just like she'd seen Amber Sweet do the night before.

He chuckled darkly as he grabbed her pale leg with one hand and placed the cold instrument against her flesh, causing her to gasp and ball her fingers into fists.

With a little zap, her world went hazy and quiet for a second before clarity set in. The curious feeling of contentment and weightlessness was a new sensation that she never got from her father's so-called medicine. Before she got the chance to ask about it, however, a loud "boom" sounded out and heavy footsteps pounded across the floorboards above them. She instinctively flattened herself against the wall as Graverobber gathered his belongings with practiced alacrity. Threatening voices were shouting above them and growing louder.

"Kid, c'mon!" He grabbed her arm and sprinted toward the other end of the tunnel, plunging them both into darkness.

"Where does this lead?" Shilo was torn between terror and strange satisfaction.

"I don't know, but we're gonna find out," he bit out between clenched teeth. To their surprise, the duo came to an all too familiar sight- a crypt door. Graverobber gave a triumphant "humph" before wrenching the door open and launching them both into the city's graveyard.

The sirens and alarms were already blaring as they sprinted across the damp stones of the wide path and into the garden of above-ground graves. They came to a tall wrought-iron fence around the perimeter, and Shilo wrapped her hands around the black bars with a distressed whimper.

"Hey," Graverobber sharply whispered, knocking her out of her near panic attack. Shilo whipped to the left to see him crouched down, his hands cupped together and his face the perfect mask of urgent impatience. Without thinking, she threw her arms up and placed her left boot in his hands. He then vaulted her upward, and she grabbed the top rail of the bars and clumsily swung herself over before crashing down on the other side, jarring her ankles. Graverobber was looking behind him as she whispered through the bars.

"What about you?!"

He turned back, a puckish grin adorning his mouth. "I got this." Her eyes widened and she shook her head, mouth agape. "Run, kid," was the last thing he said before bolting to the right along the fence. Choking back a panicked whimper, Shilo turned on her heel and sprinted across the road into the industrial district before leaping into an empty dumpster, her body landing with a loud clang as she scooted over to the pitch black side.

She crouched down, arms wrapped around her knees and barely breathing, and before long she heard pounding footsteps approaching. Her heart hammered in her chest, but they kept running, and the alarming noise faded away into the night. Her eyes were wide, and she realized that she was indeed very familiar with the corpse from whom she'd just gotten acquainted: Marni Wallace. She had stabbed a needle into Mommy Dearest's skull, drawn out a highly addictive drug, and shot it up. She shot up her dead mother's brain juices. And she liked it.

Shilo stared blankly ahead. She knew that sleep would not come easy this night.

* * *

><p>Word count: 1997<p>

Posted: 12-1-14

Let us suppose that Needle Through a Bug takes place _after_ the opera as opposed to just before it, yes?

This fic is gonna (hopefully) be fast, hard-hitting, and dirty. Chapter 2 may or may not contain citrus. Muahahaha.

Anyway, **squee!** My first Repo! fic, and my first *cough*smutty*cough* fic. This first chapter is merely the intro. It gets tasty after this. Read! Review! Reviews are my lifeblood.

**I do not own Repo! The Genetic Opera, as it is the intellectual property of Terrance Zdunich.**


	2. Teenage Nosferatu

The next few days were cloudy and rainy, and Shilo finally found the nerve to creep out of the dumpster just past dawn three days later when she could hear the gnashing and clanging of the factories around her firing to life. She stuck to the shadows and slunk along the walls, ever on the alert for GeneCops. To her admitted surprise, she was able to make it back to her old home and sneak in with the intent to grab some of her old books and the few unspoiled bits of food left in the kitchen. She didn't dare turn on the water to shower for fear of alerting anyone with sharp ears to her presence. However, as she slowly descended the stairs, she saw that the living room fireplace was slightly out of place, and as she crept forward, she realized that it was actually detached from the wall, hinged on one side.

She snuck down the dark passageway until she walked through the plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling and entered what she could only describe as a den of horrors. The floor was linoleum tiled, and there were several drains. A corpse was strapped to a vertical operating table, his abdomen cut open and rotting. Flies buzzed thick in the putrid air. The back wall was covered with tools befitting the workshop of a madman. Every conceivable knife, scalpel, and bone saw had its place upon the yellow pegboard.

To her ashamed delight, the sink was still filled with unsullied water, and she took the opportunity to scrub the dried blood off of her body and face and soak her wig. Here she was, bathing herself in her father's workshop of horrors, and after the initial surprise, she couldn't even bat an eyelash.

She crept back upstairs, damp wig in tow, and tiptoed into her room to stuff a duffel bag with some spare clothes and changed into something a little more comfortable and a little less horribly mangled and crusted in blood. She rearranged her lightly dripping wig on her head and put a wide-rimmed black hat on over it before standing. As she exited her room to slip back down into the living room where she left the stack of books, she turned and saw the door to her father's bedroom. She had never been in there before, and strangely enough, the door was ajar. It was beckoning her. She pushed the door open with one index finger and stepped inside.

The space was sparsely decorated with a bed, a bookshelf filled with tomes on medicine, and a dresser, upon which was perched a single wedding photo of Marni and Nathan and a tiny black box. Shilo reached up to open the box and saw her father's wedding ring accompanied by what she could only guess was the ring belonging to her mother. He had apparently thought to remove it before heading to the opera on the night he was killed. Shilo pressed her lips in a thin line before shoving the little box into her bag and backing out of the room.

In the kitchen, she quickly swept the books into her bag and slunk back outside. She had one goal in mind: find the Graverobber. All the previous night and up until the present, her body had been tensing, and she felt a deep need in her gut for the satisfaction that the Zydrate provided for her. It was clouding her thinking and making it difficult to get anything done, let alone planning her escape from the island.

She wandered aimlessly, keeping the hat pulled low over her brow, and she looked around, peeked in and out of alleyways and nooks for characters that looked like they might be Z addicts. She found none to speak of, and the lack of results, compounded by her lack of sleep, was causing her to become highly frustrated and irritable.

Finally, after three hours of walking aimlessly in the rain, she espied a potential target- a tall, lanky boy with electric blue hair and a multitude of metal piercings hanging from his face. She sidled up to him, walking at his side for a moment before breaking the silence.

"Do you, uh… Do you know where I could find the Zydrate Support Network?" He looked over at her in suspicion, clearly trying to figure out whether or not she was a rat for the GeneCops. Shilo gave him her most pitiful look and found that he was deceived rather easily. He said nothing, but nodded and led her into the back alleys of the city. Finally, they came upon the tiny meeting hall, and she gave him a small tense smile before he turned tail. By that point, it was only late afternoon, so the "support network" hadn't started yet. Shilo sat down next to the concrete staircase and waited silently, and soon the addicts began arriving and filing into the meeting hall for their touching heart-to-heart stories before the inevitable nightly relapse.

She stared blankly into space for almost an hour before she heard whistling approaching from the right. She tensed until she saw just the man she was looking for. The Graverobber appeared, dirt still caking his boots from his little romp in the cemetery in preparation for the demand after the meeting's ending.

"Hey," she barked out, getting his attention as if he hadn't noticed her the second he came around the corner. He raised his eyebrows and gave a little bow and flourish.

"I dunno why, but I feel like I need more," Shilo confessed to him, her voice flinty to hide her irritation and shame. He knew exactly what she was talking about, and his eyebrows rose in acknowledgement. "I feel it under my skin; it crawls, and my mind won't focus. I need a hit, Graverobber. I know you have some. Just this one last time. I need to wean my body off of it before I go." The fading light cloaked them in shadows for a moment before the nearby street lamp buzzed and flickered to life. He slipped his hand into his coat and procured a single luminous vial.

"Ah, that would be because this is straight Z," he explained, examining his fingernails disinterestedly as he approached. Shilo stood up. "That commercial junk is laced with so much other shit that the Zydrate in there is negligible. This, street Z, is clean, and it's pure." He drew out the last syllable and looked over at Shilo. The girl, even in average clothes, couldn't help but stand out like a sore thumb. "It gives you a more intense high and has a higher chance of killing you. You want to throw your money away on something like this, throw your life away?" His voice took on a condescending yet pondering tone, and Shilo found that she didn't like it one bit. "This is your last chance, kid," he mockingly warned her with a dangerous smirk, wiggling the small vial between his fingers. Her eyes narrowed, and she glared at him with all the venom she could muster before replying.

"And since when are you the fucking moral authority here?" He almost laughed at the way her voice sounded around such a dirty word. So innocent, and so… naughty. He liked it. "Gimme a hit," she demanded, staring into his dark blue eyes with determination.

"Unless you've got a gun tucked in that duffel bag and plan to mug me, you'd better pay up. I don't do charity, kid."

"I don't have any money. Where would I get it, genius?" She glared at him as he shrugged his shoulders indifferently and tucked the vial back in his trench coat.

"Not my problem. I'll see ya later," he said before turning to walk away. Something snapped in Shilo, and she threw away what was left of her sanity as she fell to the backup plan she'd formulated earlier.

She grabbed his arm and shoved him up against the brick wall, planting her arms on either side of him and sliding her pelvis up against his, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and staring at the myriad of stains on his yellowed shirt.

She turned her eyes up to look at him and saw that one of his eyebrows was quirked up as if to say, "Oh, really?" She froze and her eyes darted around, searching his face desperately.

Shit. She hadn't thought this far in advance.

However, she apparently didn't need to, as he lurched forward and, with a deft spin, turned and pinned her to the wall, holding each hand far above her head by the wrists. "Last chance," he growled into her ear as her hat slid off, and Shilo shuddered when his breath ghosted across her skin. He buried his face into her neck, and she felt a tingle travel down her body when the light stubble on his chin glanced over the tender flesh of her neck. His lips hummed across her heated skin. She panted breathlessly.

God, why was she so turned on right now?

Her heartbeat was racing, and her trepidation and nervousness were growing while his tongue snaked over her skin.

Did she really want to go down this road?

Graverobber grabbed her by the forearm, his fingers easily circling around the limb and dragged her a few feet around the corner into a narrow, well-shaded dead-end alleyway where he slammed her against the grimy brick wall. Her head cracked against the hard surface, and he grabbed one of her small breasts through the thin lycra of her shirt. A breathy noise somewhere between a whimper and a sigh escaped her lips, and he trailed his tongue up from her collarbone to dance around the shell of her ear while he ripped her sleeveless shirt down to expose her small breasts. The urge to flee and the need to stay battled within Shilo's mind, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when his cold fingers reached under her black pleated skirt to brush against her inner thigh. He was panting raggedly against her collarbone, and he bent over to claim one of her pink buds in his mouth. Hot tears began swimming in her eyes, and his tongue danced around the peak while his long, cold fingers curled around the edge of her panties.

One finger plunged into her depth, and she cried out, digging her fingernails deep into his shoulders hard. He moaned into her breast. His gritty thumb worked itself in circles upon her little pearl, and Shilo felt herself going weak in the knees. He added a second finger and pressed against a spot she didn't even know existed. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks, and she let out a whimpering sob as he mercilessly teased her.

Graverobber retracted his hand and brought it up to cup her chin, smearing the juices of her attraction upon her skin. She looked into his black-rimmed eyes and found nothing there but hard, animalistic hunger, and she forced her gaze down, unable to look in his eyes; to look into his overwhelming desire. The black pigment upon his lips was smeared all over her breast. She was panting erratically, and he pressed his pelvis forward and hoisted one of her legs upon his hip. The hard proof of his growing arousal was pressed against her upper pelvis, and Shilo's apprehension skyrocketed. She was unable to get a word in when he whirled her around, and she was barely able to throw her hands in front of her before she was pushed into the wall again. His dirty hands came down to force her legs apart.

He reached down to flip her skirt up onto her back and pulled her panties clear down with a small grunt, leaving her pale flesh visible for all to see. Shilo shrieked and turned her head to see him nimbly unfastening the buttons of his pants and yanking them and his undergarments down to his knees. Before she could see anything more perverse, she whipped her head back around and planted her forehead against the rough bricks. She could feel him teasing her, slipping the tip of his hot length up and down her slickened core, and her muscles tightened.

What would her father think of this?

Without warning, he slammed into her, and she yelled as her flesh parted and tore within. Her forehead ground painfully into the brick, and she hastily pulled her head back. One of his hands quickly came around to cover her mouth, and he gave small strokes inside of her while she panted heavily into his palm, trying to accommodate his sudden intrusion. He shuffled backward slightly, bringing his length to hover just barely inside of her tight walls, and she whined with simultaneous dread and arousal. He removed his hand from her face and pressed his open palm in between her shoulders forcefully, making her rear jut out and plunge his cock back into her core.

"Fuck," she wheezed, and Graverobber drew back to slam into her again, groaning at the destruction of Shilo Wallace's remaining innocence as her scalding heat clamped around his flesh.

"Fuckin' jailbat," he growled as he leaned over her back to grab and squeeze at her heaving breasts that jumped forward with each thrust. He raked his nails over the small mounds and down her sides to rest at her hips, gripping them tightly as he hammered into her abused sex.

Shilo cried out. Her whimpers of pain were very rapidly melting into screams of pleasure as stroke after stroke filled her and dragged across nerves she never knew she had. She jerked her pelvis backward, matching his surging rhythm and smacking her body into his, pushing his cock even further in to batter her insides. He brushed just barely up against something that made her howl. There was a pressure mounting, building within her like someone cranking the handle of a jack in the box in her gut as moans and whimpers of need fell from her lips carelessly. His speed increased as he breathed heavily behind her.

However, he quickly pulled out, and she turned her head with a whine. She saw his hand fisted around his length and was simultaneously horrified and enraptured as he jetted his seed upon the small round of her buttocks, where it slid down her thighs along with her own smeared and dripping juices.

She let out a scoff of irritation while she reached around to wipe the mess away from her backside. He pulled his pants up with a wicked grin before turning to retrieve his satchel of gleaming blue goodies. Shilo awkwardly stepped out of her panties and crushed them in her fist before flipping her skirt down just as he rounded the corner, loaded Zydrate gun in hand. She was leaning her back against the brick wall, rubbing her thighs together in a vain attempt to alleviate the heat lingering in her loins and racing through her blood.

Graverobber smirked knowingly, satisfied he had robbed her of her completion. Shilo was glaring daggers at him, a kitten growling at a wild panther, when he stalked up to her.

"Well, well. Shilo Wallace, you may yet survive," he smoothly crooned. She pursed her lips, seething at his purposeful denying her of satisfaction. He deftly plucked the crumpled panties out of her hand before leaning to whisper in her ear. "I only aim to serve, kid." Goosebumps rose on her arms, and before she could reply, the Zydrate gun zapped against her neck, and she was suddenly floating on a cloud of bliss as her body got what it needed, what it was beginning to crave. She was going to get off of this island if it was the last thing she did. But she'd do it later…

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**Soooo, this was my first lemon I've ever written. I feel like it's not nearly as good as it should be. Ugh. This will probably be rewritten at some point. Any lemon-writing tips? I actually have several more lemon chapters planned, but I want them to be nice and juicy for you guys.**

**Oh Shilo, what are you doing wit' yo life? **

**Anyway, this chappie was influenced by ****_Teenage Nosferatu Pussy_**** by Rob Zombie. Obviously, I couldn't throw the last word in the chap title for fear of getting struck down by admin. *shakes fist*. So. Read and review! And check out that song by RZ. I rather enjoy it. The next chapter is stewing in my brain for now, and it's on the back burner due to my impending final exams and research papers.**


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